Borrowed Time
by Saria-the-green-haired
Summary: They borrowed time to live, and it is running out. Short little monologue on death.


Warnings: Quasi-angst (True, flat-out angst has never been my fortitude, but I tried), character death, Weird Theories.  
  
Pairings: None.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh, or any of the mythology that I refer to.  
  
Notes: Short little monologue in first-person POV reflecting on life and death. Not telling whose POV, but it should become blindingly obvious soon, even though you don't need to know who's involved to really get the story.  
  
I know that I should be finishing my other stories that people are going to lynch me for (as well as an as-of-yet unpublished semi-humorous one-shot that people are STILL going to lynch me for, despite it being unpublished), but Real Life has reared up and bitten me in the arse. My grandfather is dying or dead, even though the doctors said that he should have six to eight months left. Even as I write this, my mother is rushing back to Taiwan after just returning a week or two ago, hoping that she'll be in time to see her father one last time so he can die peacefully. Soon, I'm only going to have one grandparent left. Terribly sorry if this frame of mind doesn't lend itself to humor/vaguely happy things.  
  
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Borrowed Time  
  
By Saria-the-green-haired  
  
I am sitting here, my back against the wall, and my knees drawn up to my chest. It is a vulnerable and weak-looking position, but I don't care; it's the only way to sit that doesn't make any of my joints ache, which is a blessed thing these days.  
  
I look up at a vague sound and see my once enemy, and my current friend. He is an unlikely companion for this final journey, but I would have no other.  
  
He sits down across from me, mirroring my pose against the opposite wall. Wearily, but still with care, he reaches up and brushes his bangs from his eyes.  
  
He looks at me, and our eyes meet. There is grief in his eyes, just as there must be grief in mine. No words are needed, for we both understand what is happening.  
  
We are dying.  
  
Not of old age, disease, poisoning, wounds, or anything like that. We are simply dying, because we were never meant to live in this time. Our bodies look exactly the same as they did, all those months ago, but they hurt. They ache terribly, though neither of us shows it, except to each other, because they are breaking down. They are dying, and we are dying with them. I expect that we are lucky even to be able to move on our last day of life.  
  
Our bodies are dying, for they were never really meant to exist at all. These bodies that magic created, so that we might move separately from our other halves, are merely borrowed and therefore, temporary. They are now reaching the end of their usefulness, and the hearts can no longer beat, nor the organs work.  
  
Over these last few months, I have often reflected that Fate is cruel, to give us both this second chance at life, only to take it away. But then, Fate has always been cruel to us.  
  
Besides, Fate has a brother, who is no less cruel and uncaring.  
  
I remember something that someone once told me (I can't remember who, has my memory gone as well?), that long ago, people used to believe that Death had hourglasses for each person, filled with sand that measured their lifespan. When the last grains of sand trickled down and the hourglass was empty, the person would die.  
  
Our hourglasses have been empty for a very long time. Three thousand years, to be exact.  
  
Sighing, I shift a little, hoping to ease the sudden pain in my back. It gets worse. I sigh again, realizing that our time is close.  
  
I glance around at our little corner, our little alleyway. Shadows dance across our faces, and wind whips at our hair.  
  
I wonder how long it will take the others to realize that we are missing, and how long for them to remember that I, at least, have long since come to the beach, for it reminds us of our homeland. Once they are at the beach, it should not be hard for them to find us (or our bodies, if you wish to be accurate), even though we have cast a concealing spell over our location, so that none may find us before we die; as our bodies waste away, our magic wanes with them.  
  
I wonder how they will react, to find us both dead like this. They will be shocked and saddened, that is for sure, but I hope that they do not think that we killed ourselves, or that we have killed each other, as implausible as that seems. I also hope that they do not blame themselves for not noticing that something was wrong; we two have always been excellent actors.  
  
I know that the first group who finds us will be greatly surprised at our deaths, but I suspect that Kaiba already knows, for his eyes are not filled with hate and anger anymore when he looks at us, but rather pity. And as of late, the "private duels" that he has been challenging me to are merely friendly conversations. We have become close friends in my last few weeks of life, and he reminds me even more of my old friend and trusted confidante, who I loved greatly.  
  
Pain is shooting through my body, and even breathing is becoming a struggle; our time is very close.  
  
Glancing up at him, I find the same realization in his eyes.  
  
My companion unto death smirks the slightest bit, a mere twitch of his lips, and a shadow of a challenge passes across his eyes. `See you on the other side,` he seems to say. I feel a similar smirk cross my lips and I nod my head slightly. Having said our final farewell, we both bow our heads and wait.  
  
We sit quietly and wait, as the last of our borrowed life seeps away from our borrowed bodies, like the last grains of sand in someone's hourglass.  
  
We have been living on borrowed time, and it has run out.  
  
The End  
  
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I don't know when I'll be in the proper mindset for the rest of my stories again, but for the sake of my readers, I'll try to make it soon. Actually, "A Red Rose in Winter" is at a semi-angsty point...  
  
As always, leave a review!  
  
@|---------- Saria-the-green-haired  
  
Yami and Yami Bakura were the two main characters of this story if you hadn't guessed already, and it's from Yami's POV, though only the paragraph about Kaiba really defines it; if it wasn't for that paragraph, the story could be from either of their perspectives. 


End file.
